“Go and collect the eggs, you two,” Hazel told the girls. “I’ll cook you all a fine breakfast, if you’ll just be patient.” She shot a pointed look to Phin as she spoke.
Lenore glanced between the brother and sister. Phin looked back at Hazel as if he’d been well and truly scolded and resented it. They’d clearly had some sort of conversation after Lenore had gone to bed the night before. Lenore just hoped it had been a productive one. At least Phin wasn’t arguing with her that morning.
“Phin, go see if Father is awake,” Hazel ordered.
Without a word, Phin got up and left the room.
Lenore continued to sit there in silence, sipping her tea and pouring herself a second cup, all while trying to work things out enough in her exhausted mind to know what to say to Phin. She was truly sorry that she hadn’t explained the truth to him earlier. She genuinely loved him. That thought hadn’t left her mind through the endless night, even though she tried to deny it. To no avail. Phin was everything she’d ever wanted in a man, something that was even more obvious when he carried his frail father into the kitchen and fussed silently over the man, making him as comfortable as he could. It was a damnable shame that she couldn’t have him. Not unless she faced Bart and attempted to work out some sort of a deal with him. She was entitled to an annulment, but the pulsing dread in her gut told her that would be about as unlikely as convincing Bart to take holy orders.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, once Mr. Mercer was settled and Phin had fixed a cup of tea that he was slowly feeding to him, as Hazel had bacon sizzling in a pan on the stove and the chickens outside clucked up a storm while the girls gathered eggs, Lenore found the courage to say, “I’m truly sorry for everything, Phin.”
“I know,” Phin replied, perhaps a little too fast. His jaw was as tight as a coiled spring, and he wouldn’t look at her, though Lenore had the distinct feeling that he wanted to look at her. He lowered the funnel he used for his father’s tea and sat lamely in his chair, as if he didn’t know what to do next.
“Believe me, it was never my intention for things to get so out of hand,” she went on. “If I had known I would fall so madly in love, I would have been open about everything from day one.”
His gaze snapped to her, and for a beautiful heartbeat, she swore she could see hope in his eyes. As soon as she saw it, though, Phin’s expression shuttered. “I do believe that you were frightened,” he said, glancing to his father as if the man would suddenly spout forth advice and make the entire thing better.
It wasn’t much of a concession, but it was enough to have Lenore breathing a sigh of relief. Of course, feeling relieved also sapped the last of her energy. She gulped another mouthful of tea, praying it was enough to give her strength for whatever came next. At least she had the peace and distance of Yorkshire and Hazel’s excellent cooking to give her time to form a plan.
That small hope was dashed minutes later when the girls came running back into the kitchen with a basket of eggs and an unfamiliar young man following them.
“Good morning, Mark,” Hazel addressed the young man, looking surprised to see him, and a bit flustered, if Lenore interpreted things right.
“Morning, Hazel.” The young man smiled and touched the brim of his hat to her. He nodded to Mr. Mercer and Phin as well. “Is there a Miss Lenore Garrett staying here?”
“That’s me,” Lenore said, twisting to face the young man, dread pooling in her stomach, making her question the wisdom of drinking so much tea so quickly.
Mark pulled is smile away from Hazel and stepped closer to Lenore. He reached into his pocket as he did and took out a folded piece of paper. “Telegram arrived for you late last night, miss,” he said. “Sorry I wasn’t able to get it to you sooner.”
“Thank you,” Lenore said in a wary voice, taking the paper from him.
“What do we owe you?” Phin asked, getting up and reaching into his pocket for the money to pay the young man.
Lenore barely listened to the exchange as she opened the telegram. “Sorry, but you need to come back,” it read. “Swan claiming all over London you’re his wife. Social chaos. Only you can quell rumors.” It was signed, “Freddy.”
Lenore let out a heavy breath and tossed the telegram onto the table. She glanced to Mr. Mercer, wishing he could give her some sort of fatherly advice, then leaned her elbows gracelessly on the table and planted her face in her hands. She should have known that running away to Yorkshire wouldn’t do a lick of good. She should have known that a continent and an ocean weren’t enough distance to put between her and Bart, that he would find her in the end. She could only imagine what he wanted from her now. Probably to finish what he’d started.
She heard Phin return to the table and pick up the telegram, even though she didn’t lift her face from her hands. She was too tired to do more than listen as he sucked in a breath, then dropped the telegram on the table again.
“I suppose we’d better pack our things, then,” he said in an unreadable voice.
“You’re leaving so soon?” Amaryllis asked, crossing to Lenore’s side from the counter, where she and Gladys were unloading the morning’s eggs.
Lenore lifted her head from her hands, but it was Phin who answered with, “We’ve been called back to London. Mr. Swan is making a nuisance of himself.”
Hazel nodded in understanding, but Gladys and Amaryllis both looked stricken.
“You can’t go,” Gladys said. “We’re only just getting to know you.”
“I’m afraid I must,” Lenore sighed and stood. “I’ve made a mess, and it’s about time I stop running from it and face it.” Her words were meant more for Phin than the girls.
“But—”
Lenore stopped Amaryllis’s protest with a kiss to her forehead. “I promise you,” she said, straightening, “when and if I’m able to sort this mess out, I’ll come back and spend more time with you.”
“Can Lionel come next time too?” Amaryllis asked. “I miss him so.”
“Perhaps,” Phin said, moving so that he could ruffle Amaryllis’s hair. “But right now, haste is of the essence.” He directed that last thought to Lenore.
Lenore didn’t need to be told twice. She nodded, then promptly left the kitchen and headed up to Gladys’s room to pack her things.
She wished she could make the task of packing her things last for hours. She wished she could stay in Yorkshire instead of facing what she knew she had to face. But with only one small traveling bag and a limited amount of clothing to pack, she was finished with the task in less than twenty minutes. Even then, she loitered in Gladys’s room, looking at her dolls and reading the titles of the books she had stacked on a small shelf beside one window. She couldn’t delay her departure forever, though, and all too soon, she carried her bag downstairs.
She paused at the bottom of the stairs when she heard Phin’s voice coming from the parlor.
“…not entirely certain what to do, Father,” he said. “It’s not the sort of situation one finds oneself in every day. The trouble is, I’m in love.”
Lenore’s heart leapt in her chest, even as a sheepish sort of heat filled her face. She tiptoed down the last few stairs and over to the parlor doorway, making certain she remained hidden from Phin’s view. He must have transferred his father back to the parlor after breakfast. She caught sight of him sitting on a chair he’d pulled up close to the one where his father sat, tucked in blankets and staring into nothing near the fireplace.